


Falling for You

by southsidewrites



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Romance, Soulmarks, drama club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22307269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southsidewrites/pseuds/southsidewrites
Summary: A soulmate AU in which Fangs is eagerly awaiting the day he meets his soulmate. Little does he know, she's going to find him at the moment when he least expects.Based on the soulmate AU where everyone has a mark on their body where their soulmate is going to touch them for the first time.
Relationships: Fangs Fogarty/Midge Klump
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6
Collections: A Very Merry Serpent Hissmas





	Falling for You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovelyflowersinherhair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyflowersinherhair/gifts).



> Thanks so much for checking this out! This fic is written for @bloodredcherries for the Southside Secret Santa fic exchange. I hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> Special thanks to @rivendell101 for being an ever-amazing beta.

Fangs anxiously adjusted his flannel shirt as he walked into the auditorium. He had no idea what on earth had possessed him into thinking joining the Riverdale High Drama Club was a good idea. Ever since the stupid school merger, there’d been nothing but tension between the North and Southsiders, and he was still nursing a bit of a sore jaw since the last scuffle.

But then, Toni had gone and joined the River Vixens, Jughead had slipped easily back into his role as Betty’s boyfriend, and Fangs realized he might have been given an opportunity. After all, why shouldn’t he take advantage of a well-funded Drama Club while he had the chance? Even Sweet Pea had agreed it wasn’t a bad idea, after he teased him for only doing it to get close to Keller, of course.

“Fangs!” Kevin called, snapping Fangs out of his daydreams with a wave from the front of the auditorium. “Glad you found it—get over here.”

He rolled his eyes and bit back a snarky response about how the school wasn’t that big. He wanted Kevin to like him, after all, especially seeing as you never knew who would be—

Kevin’s grin was wide and poised, looking the perfect image of the charming, preppy Northsider he was. “So, how do you feel about being my assistant director?” Kevin asked.

Fangs had to swallow hard before nodding, forcing himself to focus. He was absolutely not into preppy Northsiders, especially not ones with really gorgeous green eyes and a jawline sculpted by a god. “Yeah,” he managed, hoping he sounded more collected than he felt. “That sounds perfect.”

He’s Joaquin’s ex, he reminded himself. Get it together, Fogarty.

Against all of his better judgment, Fangs eyed Kevin up as subtly as he could, searching for any sign of a soulmark. If it was anything like Fangs’, it would be hard to hide, even with preppy sweaters and button-downs.

Fangs’ soulmark had always been a massive source of confusion and annoyance—the dark, bruise-colored mark covered almost his entire torso, stretching from his left shoulder, down his chest and abdomen, and cutting off mid-thigh. The lines were blurry and undefined, and the only conclusion that he could come to was that the first time he touched his soulmate would be nothing short of a full-on body slam.

If Kevin’s was anything like it, he wouldn’t be able to hide it for long.

“Awesome.” Kevin grinned, taking off at a quick walk and waving for Fangs to join him. “Let’s get you caught up, then. You know we’re doing Godspell, and rehearsals already started, but you should be able to catch on pretty quickly.” He handed him a thick binder that was nearly overflowing with pages. “This is the show bible—it has everything we need to make this show happen. Don’t let it out of your sight for a second.”

Fangs had to hustle to keep up with the slightly taller boy, trying to find a comfortable way to hold the bible without letting any of the precious pages slip out. Kevin was weaving his way into the backstage, navigating through the half-assembled set with practiced ease, and Fangs felt bulky and clumsy in comparison. “I know the show really well,” he said, ducking under a low-hanging beam. “And I don’t have any formal training, but—”

“Yeah, that’ll be great,” Kevin cut him off. “You need to meet our stage manager.”

Fangs nearly slammed into Kevin as he suddenly stopped, barely catching himself on what appeared to be part of a large, wooden tree. Quickly, he followed his gaze up the largest set piece to see a petite girl with short black hair. She had a hammer in one hand and was using the other to hold herself steady on her perch.

“Hey, Midge,” Kevin called up at her. “Get down here and say hello to Fangs, the new assistant director!”

“I’m good,” she called back, not pulling her gaze away from whatever she was working on. “This ceiling’s literally about to fall off if we can’t get it stabilized.”

Fangs’ eyes widened in concern—she was sitting on the ceiling. “Um, why are you up there, then?”

She laughed, a bright musical sound that made Fangs’ chest feel a little tingly. “Because someone’s gotta take the chance.” Once she got the nail in, she leaned over the edge looking down at them. “Nice to meet you, Fangs.”

As Fangs got a better look at her, all he could think was that the Northside must have been spiking their water with attractive genes. It seemed like nearly every person he met was damn-near a model. “Nice to meet you too, Midge.”

His eyes were drawn to her jaw, to the right side of her face. At first, it almost looked like a shadow, but then she shifted slightly, and it became clear—her soulmark. The deep purple smudge covered a large part of her face, from her cheekbone down her jaw. It almost looked like it trailed further down her chest, too, but he couldn’t quite tell under her long-sleeved t-shirt.

She may have been the first person he’d met with a worse soulmark than him.

“Alrighty then, let’s get moving,” Kevin said, his tone sharp. “We’ve got a lot more people to meet and not a lot of time. You already know Betty, of course, and the other actors…”

Kevin’s introductions slowly melded together, a flurry of names and faces that Fangs was sure he’d manage to remember eventually. For the moment, though, all he could think about was Midge’s soulmark.

Everyone was born with a soulmark—as children, they’re faint, light-colored marks that are almost indistinguishable from small birthmarks. Over time, though, they spread and grew, sometimes splitting into a couple shapes and sizes. Then, by the time a person was about fourteen or fifteen, they’d wake up one morning and the once-faint mark would be the color of a deep bruise. After that, they just had to wait to find their soulmate, to see the mark explode into a bright rainbow of color upon contact before fading away forever.

Sweet Pea’s had been first to change, him being the oldest of the group. They had been at the quarry, sitting in the sun and tossing rocks into the water when suddenly the two beige smudges on his shoulders solidified into two dark, matching handprints.

“Looks like someone’s pushing you,” Jughead had commented with a short laugh.

“Or going in for a kiss,” Toni had offered.

“On the first meeting? Nah, Sweet Pea’s getting pushed for sure.”

It was only a few days later that Sweet Pea’s mark had faded forever, and he had adamantly refused to share any of the juicy details.

Fangs, on the other hand, was no closer to getting to the bottom of his mark. He was fond of the body slam hypothesis, but Toni had suggested a much more logical alternative, a hug. Since the mark had solidified, though, he’d hugged what felt like countless people, and none had resulted in the explosion of rainbows.

Logically, he knew it could be years, or that he might never even find the person, but some part of him was hoping that it would be soon, that they would be a student of Riverdale High.

If only he had a reason to hug Kevin Keller.

* * *

“No, no, no, run it again!” Kevin sighed exasperatedly. “I’m really not feeling the energy here.”

“Maybe because we’ve run the scene close to a dozen times,” Josie snapped, crossing her arms over her chest to give him an icy glare. “We’re dying up here, Keller.”

Kevin just waved her comment off, flipping the pages of his script until he got to the right one. “From Veronica’s last line before the song, please. And this time, let’s try to sing it like we mean it!”

Fangs slow-walked down the aisle to the row of seats Kevin had set up in. He had a paper coffee cup in both hands, and the last thing he needed was to spill Kevin’s caffeine all over the auditorium the week before the show.

“Here, Kev,” he said, sitting the cup down on the makeshift table stage crew had concocted for them. “How’re they doing?”

Kevin muttered something in response, and Fangs had to bite back a laugh as he squeezed into the seat next to him. Their arms brushed together, and Fangs had to press down the ever-familiar disappointment that they weren’t soulmates. They had touched plenty of times the past few weeks, and none had been any more than a simple touch—no explosion of rainbows, radiating heat, or overwhelming passion.

Not that that was going to stop Fangs from pursuing him.

Plenty of people dated before finding their soulmate. Hell, not everyone even found their soulmate. There were even some people who found them but ended up with someone else.

Fangs would never forget the way FP had described soulmates—overrated magical voodoo bullshit had been his exact words. None of the young Serpents had ever seen his soulmark, so they assumed it had already faded, that he’d already met his soulmate.

They were pretty sure it wasn’t Gladys Jones.

So, Fangs really didn’t feel all that bad about trying to date Kevin in the meantime.

“—you think you can do that?”

Fangs snapped back into focus at the sound of Kevin’s voice. “Sorry, what was that?”

Kevin’s lips pressed into a tight line. “I asked if you would be willing to stay back and help Midge with the set tonight. Archie managed to crack the wall on the house yet again, and there’s no way she can fix that on her own in time for opening.”

“Yeah, of course.” Fangs nodded, looking up at the house to see one of the plywood walls cracked solidly down the middle. He knew Archie wasn’t much of a dancer, but it still shocked him how badly the guy could manage to screw up even the simplest choreography in the most destructive ways. It was a wonder Midge hadn’t pushed him off the stage or something yet, seeing as this was at least the fourth time he’d done major damage to a set piece.

“Awesome.” Kevin’s grin returned for the briefest of seconds before he turned back to the stage. His face dropped with a shout. “Josie McCoy, what did I say about singing like you mean it?”

* * *

Fangs walked out of the costume shop, surprisingly exhausted from hauling piles of clothing around. As assistant director, his job could best be summarized as “do all the random tasks that no one else feels like,” so he hadn’t even been able to find Midge and help with the set the moment rehearsal ended. By the time he finally wandered back down to the stage, nearly everyone was gone.

The darkened room was almost eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the top of the house set—quick bursts of angry mumbles that must have been Midge. Fangs walked over, carefully avoiding the mess of tools and scrap wood scattered on the stage so he didn’t trip and make a complete ass of himself.

“Hey, Midge, you—”

He was cut off by her surprised curse as she dropped her hammer with a start. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion—the hammer leaving her hand, her head shooting up to see who he was, her leg slipping from her perch as her body craned around—and then she was falling.

Fangs barely had time to rush toward the set, putting himself between her and the hard wooden floor. There was no possible way he was moving or thinking fast enough to catch her, but he figured his body would likely make for a softer landing than the floor.

She smashed into him with a thud, both of them slamming into the ground. Fangs’ head smacked into the floor, and everything went hazy—his vision blurred, his chest hurt, and his leg was at an awkward angle beneath him.

None of that mattered, though. Both of their bodies had exploded in a flash of rainbow light, the colors shining so brightly that they shone through their clothes. His whole body felt hot, and his soulmark was throbbing, the beat of his heart radiating through his entire body.

Midge’s eyes were fixed on him in absolute shock, her lips parted soundlessly. Her face was only inches from his, and he was suddenly aware of just how gorgeous her eyes were—deep brown with little flecks of gold.

Awkwardly, Fangs pulled his leg out from underneath him, struggling to catch his breath. His lips were curved into a thrilled smile, his mind racing as he realized what had just happened. “And here I thought it was going to be a hug.

She laughed, a beautiful, musical, perfect, melodious sound that made his heart beat a million miles and minute. “Really? I knew all along that I was going to belly flop onto the love of my life.”

“Wait, really?” he gaped.

“No, dummy,” she laughed, finally pushing herself upright to look at him. “Of course, I thought it was going to be a hug. What kind of absolute weirdo falls onto their soulmate?”

“Apparently, you do.” He couldn’t help but laugh as he sat up, her joy contagious. “Trying to kill me, Klump?”

“If anyone’s trying to kill anyone, it’s you, Fogarty?” She grinned mischievously. “You’re the one who snuck up on me while I was on top of a very tall, very dangerously unstable set piece.”

“Sneak up?” He gave her an amused look. “All I did was say hello.”

“Sure, sure,” she drawled. Absentmindedly, she trailed her fingertips down her cheek, feeling the skin that was no longer darkened by the soulmark. “It doesn’t feel any different,” she mused.

Fangs pulled at the collar of his shirt, looking down to see that his skin was totally clear. There was no sign that there had ever even been a mark. He still felt hot, though, and he was reasonably certain that his heart was about to race right out of his chest. “It looks so different.”

She scoffed, admiring her own cleared skin. “There’s going to be no keeping this one secret.”

“What?” Fangs chuckled. “You don’t think everyone’s going to put it together that our massive, super noticeable soulmarks disappeared the night they left us alone together after rehearsal, do you?”

She groaned, still smiling as she leaned back on her elbows. “My friends are going to give me so much shit. “Sure, I bet you fell off the set onto him, Midge,” she mimicked. “That’s absolutely the most logical reason to press your entire body into someone.”

Fangs laughed, taking her hand and helping her up off the floor and to her feet. “Well, you tell them whatever you want, and I’ll back you up.”

Midge shook her head. “Nah, I say we stick to the truth. I mean, how many people can say they fell on their soulmate?”

He didn’t let go of her hand, looking down at her softly. “You know, that dumb pickup line about it hurting when you fell from heaven has never felt so accurate.”

“You calling me an angel, Fogarty?” she teased, squeezing his hand more tightly.

“Maybe.” He ran his free hand through his hair, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. “So, um, seeing as we barely know each other and all, would you maybe want to go to Pop’s with me?”

She smiled brightly, already nodding. “Absolutely. Would you mind helping me finish the set first, though? Kevin would have an aneurism if he heard we went on a date instead of finishing it.”

Fangs' heart fluttered at the word date, but he managed to keep it together enough roll his eyes. “Damn Andrews,” he muttered. “Maybe he should come back and fix the damn set.”

Midge laughed, pulling him toward the set. “Aw, don’t be too mad at Archie—if he’d never broken the set, I’d never have been able to fall off it.”

“I guess,” Fangs admitted reluctantly, biting back a smile. “I like to think that you’d have found an excuse to body slam me eventually, though.”

“Body slam?” she asked. “What happened to a nice, simple hug?”

“I mean, yeah, I always thought it would be a hug, but I wanted it to be a body slam—much more interesting.”

She rolled her eyes. “And where does falling out of the sky rank?”

He grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Better than I could have possibly imagined.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Be sure to let me know if you enjoyed it :)


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